The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1887-04-30
the grass tufts from the gravel plot and
tossing his head with a mournful signi-

world, only wheels-with wheels to it.
so as that I draw her about piece every
mornen-but I fear it's all no use
They got new spectacles, too. in place o
the eyes-but when our legs, an ou1
ears, an our eyes are going from us in
course o. nature, the art Of man
wouldn't make us new ones"
Having pronounced this profound
apostrophe, James hurried towards the
garden, while Mrs. Hassett adjourned
to the parlor, where she occupied herself,
until James return, in regulating the
furniture, whisking the dust from the
chimney ornaments, and lecturing the
housemaid for her negligence.
The lady OF the mansion was, in the
meantime seated with her daughter in
small matched summer house in the
garden. Age and sorrow had laid a
heavy and visible hand upon her frame;
and it was with some difficulty that
even Lilly Byrne could at all times sue.
coed in awakening her attention, so as
to arouse her from the lethargic state
into which the wasting of natures re.
sources had reduced her.
"Come, now, you must walk, mother, .
said Lilly, passing her arm beneath that
of the dropping lady, and lifting her
from the rustic seat; 1.-the rain is over,
and the sunshine will do you good.
Only as far as the sun-dial and back
again -"
They proceeded along the walk. the
old lady leaning on her daughter, and
supporting herself on the other side
with the gold-headed oak stick, which
had for many years been the COM
panion of her husbands walks. The
change which had taken place in the
person of her daughter was also consid-
cradle. Her shape, though less plant
and sylph-like, had more of the majesty
of womanhood about it, her step was
frmer and more easy, and her features
less delicate of tint than in her early
days, were covered with peaceful
serenity that told of conquered sorrow,
and the unruffled calmness of resigned
spirit-like battle field over which re-
turning peace had thrown her mantle
of rustic quiet and abundance, without
concealing the graves of buried hopes,
and vanquished passions, that gave a
sombre interest and solemnity to it's
loneliness. .....
ssWhat was it the visitors said yester-
day." Mrs. Byrne inquired in a faint
tone, ''that made you all laugh, Lilly?
You have not told me that yet, though
I asked you three times
Lilly looked confused and hesitated,
and her mother, by her feeble, melan-
choly smile, showed that she understood
the cause of her embarrassment.
sI'll not ask you, Lilly" she con-
tinued, speaking with difficulty. II
understand he is greatly changed. I
wish could see you happy with him,
Lilly, before I died."
Before her daughter could reply,
James had entered the garden. The
talent of this domestic did not lie in a
very perfect discrimination, and it was
fault which involved him in many a
gentle fracas with his ''young mis-
tress,'' that he could at no time govern
his voice to the proper tone while adj
dressing Mrs. Byrne. He knew she was
deaf, and, once convinced of the neces-
sity of speaking aloud, and being
wholly unacquainted with the effect of
his own voice above a certain familiar
key, his gentlest communications fire.
quently operated on the nerves of the
old lady with the influence of galvanic
shock. At the present moment, while
she was looking with some faint shy
ness of eye on the changing countenance
of her daughter, he approached her, I'M
perceived by either, and, placing his
lips close to her ear, thundered into it,
'Misthris Hasssit, ma'am, that's want
en- you, av you plase.''
Both ladies turned suddenly, and be-
held James standing with his usual
earnest gaze fixed upon them.
II often spoke to you about that,
James," said Lilly-'One would think
you took pleasure in startling my
mother. Tell Mrs. Hasset, your mis-
tress will feel obliged by her walking
into the garden for few minutes"
Il will, Miss"
"Take pleasure! - All, 6e! Miss
Lilly, I didn't think you'd say that at
all. I'm heartbroken with it for a
story; what am I to do at all? If l
speak small, I'm toult to speak up, an
it L speak up, get crossness. Well,
I'm going, Miss-'twas unknownst I
done it. To the garden, I'll tell herp'
and away he strobe, humming to him
self the popular distich,
The finest divarsion that's under the sun,
Is to sit be the fire till the prates are DONE"
In few minutes the ladies were
joined by their good-natured visitor,
who, after the usual ceremonies OF
greeting had passed, proceeded, with a
n n = s-G- -AS